With Love
by Handy-for-the-bus
Summary: Letters written between two newlyweds during WW2. Every post is one letter only, and you will have to wait for the next one to read the response. The letters come accompanied with a short scene (present or flashback).
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer:** Downton Abbey and its characters belong to Julian Fellowes. _

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It had been cold on that late afternoon in May, almost as if the weather knew about the afflictions that made his heart race at that moment. His hands, however were warm. Warm and sure as he held hers tight, knowing too well they would be parted soon. Knowing too well the day of his return was so uncertain.

She was wearing a violet dress under her ivory coat, gloves, hat and shoes matching. Her golden hair neatly done in fashion, her free hand carrying a small purse, trying its best to control any nervous motion. They waited for the train, his mother sitting on a bench. They waited for a train that would take him away, only two months after their wedding.

The station was busy. Men in uniform. Crying wives. Begging children. The station was filled with worry and fear. The smell made him sick to his stomach. The stories he heard between whispers too horrible to convey. She had smiled at him after a tender kiss. A smile he would forever remember. A kiss he would forever savour. Everything he hoped to return to. He was off then, and she was left behind. The unbearable waiting for both began.

 **xxxx**

' _My Dearest,_

 _I find myself awake in the middle of the night as I write this. Sleep hasn't visited me in days but you know that's how I usually am. Instead, I've been thinking of you, more precisely of the day we said our goodbyes and shared our last kiss at the station. A kiss that meant so much more than a farewell, but also the longing of my return home, safe and sound._

 _I miss you, Anna. More than words can express. I find myself thinking about you at every second of every day. Thinking about the first time we've met. Our first kiss. When I, at last, proposed to you. Do you remember that night? The two of us alone under the stars as I walked you home. Your heels hitting the ground, and you were so upset that there was mud in the way. You told me I would have to make it up for you, and so I did. You were so full of life. So hopeful. And I was too, as hopeful as I had ever been. Nervous too, I must confess. I tried so hard to appear confident while my heart jumped in my chest. Sometimes it seemed so loud I thought you could hear it, and then, you looked at me and I was sure you did. I felt young that night, as I did every time I was with you, as I do every time I write or every time I look at your photograph. That's how I feel now, writing this letter, as I imagine me whispering these very words into your ears as we lay in bed._

 _We've had so little time together. And tomorrow it will be four months since we became husband and wife and two months without you. The only thing that warms my heart at this moment is your photograph and the knowledge that you are waiting for me. For now, my only hope is that if I sleep, I dream of you._

 _I know you will ask me where I am and what I'll be doing, and although I hate talking about this miserable war, and most of the time I'm not allowed to, I will write you what I know and what I can; tomorrow I'm leaving for another base. We will be back in the air and our future is unknown. They talk about Germany again and even Africa. I will let you know where I'm ahead before I go, if I have the time and if I'm allowed._

 _Tell Mother I send my love. As for you, you are a constant in my heart and my mind. Don't worry too much. I will be back before you know it. Also, don't venture outside more than necessary. Stay home, read your books. It's an order, Mrs Bates! And I'm only half joshing._

 _With all my love,_

 _John Bates._


	2. Chapter 2

_**A/N:** Thank you so much for your reviews, follows and faves! You are all too kind to me and I am so grateful! xXx_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Downton Abbey and its characters belong to Julian Fellowes._

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At her desk she could see everything, but she always only saw him. A discreet man, quiet, the usual 'good afternoon and good day to you' kind of speech. He had asked for her help once, a few months ago, and although he was a regular like so many others, something made him stand out. Maybe it was the way he presented himself, always so tall and dignified, a proud look on his face. Perhaps it was his smile, so gentle and bright. Or possibly, the tender look in his eyes, whenever he avoided hers.

But that particular day would be different from the others.

She had caught him staring, again, but this time he didn't flinch and look away. He smiled instead and that gave her all the courage she needed. So, She stood from her place at the desk and walked to where he sat reading, excusing herself by taking a stack of books that had been left there by another person.

'You aren't using these, are you?' she knew he wasn't.

'No, I'm not…' he looked at her discreetly, pondering his next words. 'Do you need help?'

'Oh no, thank you. That's my job,' she said. 'Although I'm sure you know the proper place of every single one of them… you come here everyday, you probably know where everything is.'

He grinned looking down at the book he had been reading. 'I don't think so…I always read the same ones, and I don't come here just because of the books.'

'No?' she eyed him confused. 'Why would you come to a library if not for the books?'

'Silence, a good place to be at peace…' he looked at her as he spoke. 'Nice people.'

'You hardly talk to anyone.'

'I talk to you.'

'Just now,' she smiled and he answered back just the same.

'I don't need a long conversation to enjoy someone's company.'

She nodded, and the sincere expression that graced his features gave her enough confidence to try her luck twice. 'I finish in a hour, but I think you already know that…' he chuckled. Her words were absolutely true. 'Maybe you could invite me for tea.'

'I would enjoy a long conversation with you,' he confessed shyly, his hands fiddling with the pages of the book before him.

'So, am I invited?'

'The tearoom at the end of the street?' he asked and she smiled her response. 'You are invited then!'

'Very well.' She lifted her chin up in victory. 'But not before knowing your name, Mr?'

'Bates, John Bates. Miss?'

'Smith, Anna Smith.'

On that particular day the rest of their lives together had began.

 **xxxx**

 _'My Darling John,_

 _The days have been far too long and slow to go by without you here with us, dark even. As if the best part of both your mother and I was missing, and in a way, it is. You have always judged yourself so harshly, but little do you know how important and needed you are. Without you silence prevails. Laughter is subdued, never lasts too long. There's an emptiness in every room of this house. In your chair, at your desk, in our bed… in our hearts, in my arms._

 _I've been living for the day that you come back home safe and sound, and when I can finally hug you and know that you won't be leaving ever again. But life's not easy, we both know that, and I understand that at the same time, you are needed there. Maybe even more than here. Maybe I'm just being selfish. I don't really know what to think._

 _Taking all the longing away, things are going well. We've been staying at home most days, when we are not helping the ones who've lost everything. Last week we took in a mother and two children until they could find a place to stay. They travelled north yesterday, to stay at a cousin's house they didn't even know they had. It's sad to see all this. Fatherless children, desperate mothers…people without a home, without a shelter. The streets are chaotic. Everything is shattered. The library I worked for so many years has no windows or doors and most of the books have burnt to ashes. I was there the other day, with my friend, Alice. It brought tears to my eyes just looking at it, but I was able to find one of the books you always read there, and I've brought it home with me. I take it as a sign, as you know I would. You will be back soon to read it again._

 _All that has made me think about our first date. I spent most part of the night reviving it in my thoughts. You gave me your jacket after we had tea, and walked me home, and I kissed your cheek at the door before you could say another word. I still remember the look on your face. You turned red and forgot the jacket, and the next day you used it as an excuse to see me again. That was the first time in all my life I felt so confidante, and thinking back on that day I'm not even sure where all that courage came from. You said I make you feel young, well, you make me feel complete, alive, strong, and that is why I love you so very much. As for you being nervous when you proposed…Mr Bates, you could never me convince me otherwise. I know you better than I know myself, be sure of that._

 _Before I forget, your mother is sending her love and she tells you not to lose hope. To always think positive and to never despair. I am sure she wrote the exact same in her letter to you. She's right, you know, we are hopeful too, and sure that this will be over soon._

 _As for me, I can't wait to receive your next letter. To read your words and know that they were written just for me. To feel the paper in my hands and know that it was in yours too. It makes me feel closer to you somehow. I miss your touch._

 _With all my love,_

 _Anna Bates._

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 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1 and 2_.

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Spirits were high that night. Men sang and drank beer, told stories and jokes. There was a bonfire outside; they had decided to take this party outdoors, get some fresh air before leaving to a hot and desertic place. Africa.

The planes were ready to fly, filled with fuel and provisions for a couple of weeks. They would land at bases there for almost a month before coming back home. Now, they waited for the order to leave. Could take days, maybe even a month, they had to be ready whenever they were needed. For now, they rested.

As for John, he sat on a wooden bench, the one he used to sit on whenever he had a break. All by himself, and his thoughts, his reading and his letters. Others would say he was a silent man, not very sociable, but he was respected all the same. That was enough to him here.

'Take a glass, Commodore! Come on, join us!' One of his comrades offered, sitting beside him.

'I don't drink, you know that already,' John smiled.

'Spoil sport.' The man took a long swig of his drink before speaking again. 'Are you looking forward to Africa?'

'Looking forward to Africa?' John looked at the young pilot almost severely, the question making him rather upset.

'Yes, looking forward to it!' he insisted, oblivious of John's change of mood.

'I'm never looking forward to war and death, Richards. Never.'

The young man shook his head apologetically. 'I'm sorry, Commodore, I didn't mean it like-'

'I'm going to bed, Richards. I'm tired. You should all go too, if they call us to go we have to be ready. Goodnight.' John stood from his wooden bench and walked away, his steps heavy on the cement. He glanced one last time at the airplanes that night, wishing they wouldn't have to be flying so soon. Africa meant more distance, more danger, more time away. He was not looking forward to it one bit.

 **xxxx**

 _'…looking forward, he asked me. 'Are you looking forward to Africa?' Of course I am not. I'm afraid, my darling, that I let my bad mood surface once again. I don't think my answer offended him, no, but, he understood that I didn't like his question. How could I look forward to people dying, to their land being destroyed? And I know what you'll say, I can hear it in my ears, 'But you are defending them, you are fighting the enemies,' but you see, it's not that simple._

 _I'm their enemy as much as they are ours. Those men fight with the same reasons that we do; victory, a sense of duty to our Homeland. Of course I think our reasons are fairer, that what we want is to save people from their wicked minds, but for them, for them we are the wrong ones. How can they understand? We fly over their countries, we bomb their towns, their houses…how can we tell the people, those mothers and children, who are sleeping and living their lives before we take over, that they are the wrong ones? How can we tell them we are taking over their home because we are good and want to save them, if we only do it by force? Force is needed sometimes, I know that, but this kind of force is just…dooming. It dooms us and them. It destroys both equally, either you die or not…_

 _I hope I don't make you feel sad after reading my words, that's the last thing I want. But you see, you are my wife, my best friend, the one I talk to about everything, and that's what I need now. I have no one else to turn to and I find in these letters a way to speak out my thoughts and fears. I did wish I would only write words of joy, words that would make you laugh… but that wouldn't be honest, and I know you wouldn't want that. I know you want confessions and truth, that's what I'm giving to you._

 _Remember that time when you asked me about Vera? I do. Very often. It was summer and you wore that beautiful green dress, ever so short. I remember walking down the road and men looking at your legs. I wasn't too happy about it, but at the same time it made me smile that I was the only one allowed near them. Your legs, I mean. I dared a touch when we sat on the bench at the park and you slapped my hand, called me cheeky, said, 'Mr Bates, how dare you?', with a wonderful smirk on your face. I kissed you then, right there, while people walked by, and when we broke apart you asked me about her. I still remember your words 'if we are sharing a life together we are sharing everything about it. Bad and good, secrets and pasts.'. Well, I stick to those words now, and I wish you were here with me, so you could listen to my vents face to face, skin to skin. I miss you, Anna, desperately. I miss you every day, every second. I think of you even without realising it. People come to me and ask me things and only then I understand that I have been thinking about you, about us. It comes so natural, Anna, as breathing. Just like my love for you. It came that natural the first time I saw you in the library. I walked in just because I needed a book I couldn't find anywhere else and that was it. I had to come back the day after, and the one after that, and so on. I saw you at your desk, asked where the History section was and I fell in love so fast I felt like my heart had stopped on my chest._

 _That's what you do to me, my love. You make it all about you._

 _I'm sending Mother's letter together with yours because we are running short of envelopes at the moment. This may be my last letter before going to Africa. I will write the moment before I go but when it gets to you I will be already on the other continent. I'll think of you there as much as I do here. Maybe this will be our last mission. I do hope so. I'm going to sleep now, or at least try, and be sure I will be dreaming of you. Dreaming of you by my side in bed, making love until morning comes…yes, those thoughts always make me feel better. I hope they have the same effect on you._

 _With all my love,_

 _John Bates._

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 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your reviews, follows and faves :D_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-3. _

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The days were mostly silent, an impatient waiting louder than any words. The sun shone outside, strong and piercing, amongst wrecks and homeless people, amongst a lost hope that many were sure would never be found again.

'And when will you tell him?' John's mother asked as she walked into the kitchen. The smell of soup and beans wafting in the air. Lunch time was approaching and with it hungry people lining up at their door.

'I don't know…' Anna shrugged her shoulders as she stirred the boiled vegetables in the pot, her voice quiet.

'You know, he won't be home anytime soon, as much as we want him to, he won't.'

'I know but…' the young woman sighed, defeated, feeling nothing but helplessness in a time like this. Not that she could do much than wait. Wait and pray, and fill her time with something else, her mind though, would always go back to him, no matter how much she tried to avoid it. 'I've always imagined this moment. Telling him face to face. Seeing his expression as I speak.'

'Think about when he sees you,' her mother in law tried to cheer her up. '...knowing that you are carrying something so very special within you.'

'You're right.' Anna gave in. Mrs Bates always knew what to say to make her feel a little better. 'I'll tell him in my next letter.'

'You do well, my dear. It will be something else for him to dream about...something to long for. It will give him strength.'

'Wherever he is.' Anna's words were somehow bitter. Frail as thin glass. _Wherever he is. As long as he is all right. As long as he comes back._

 **xxxx**

 _My Darling John,_

 _I fear this letter won't get to you soon enough. I know that mail is complicated as it is, and now, with you in Africa…_

 _Africa. The thought makes my heart ache on my chest. You are so far away from me and I feel it more every day. My hands have been cold lately, I fall into slumber and when I awake...I don't feel it. It's you, this, that's happening to me. You being away. In Europe it was different. You felt closer somehow, safer...I know it's silly but that's how I felt, and now... How many times did I tell you that you were my soul? My life? Well, if a proof was needed then it's showing now._

 _But...and I smile as I write this, you were so caring in leaving something behind. Something that is giving me all the strength I need, hope, making everything a little better in these terrible times_

 _I read the news everyday. I see it in the people's' eyes. Despair. Well, not me. Not now. Not when I have a part of you growing inside me. Yes, you've guessed, Mr Bates. You are going to be a father._

 _I should have told you before, but...I don't really know. It was your mother who convinced me, and now I couldn't be happier to do so. I'm around four months along and I like to think it happened that last night we were together, to make it up for the time that we would have to spend apart. That's what I feel, and I feel blessed. It's like a physical memory of the two of us, and although I don't show or feel it moving yet I'm already so much in love. I'm in a state of grace, as your mother says._

 _Now, whenever you think of us, of coming back home, you also have to think about your child. About this new person that we created. That the family we've dreamed of together is now beginning to come true._

 _Everything else is pretty much the same. There's hungry people at our door everyday, the problem is making the soup we make last for all of them. Children and mothers eat first, but then, that's most of the people we help. But we'll manage, as you say, with goodwill every little help makes the whole difference._

 _I hope you come back soon, my Darling. I miss you, and I need you more than ever. I need you here with me to plan, to dream, but I know I have no right to ask you that. Your mission now is there, and as much as I hate it, I understand why you had to go. Don't worry too much, we will be fine and we will be waiting for you, no matter how long you take to return. We are strong enough, your mother and I. You would be proud._

 _I love you with all my heart,_

 _Anna Bates._

 _ps: You should start thinking about names. I would love to read your ideas._

 **xxxx**

She rested the pen on the desk and folded the paper into the envelope. She had been smiling, yes, but that didn't stop the tears from falling. Her only hope was that he would be home soon, safe and sound. Her biggest fear? She daren't think about it for too long.

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 _ **Thank you for reading :)**_


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-4. _

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Feather like kisses along her neck. Warm lips and daring hands, and her body responding to his own. That was their morning routine of late, when a hour before the clock rang he awoke with the first rays of light, deciding it was the perfect time to worship her all over again.

And she had never complained. She was not a morning person, but on these occasions, she would never complained. Instead, she would give in to his touches, his warmth, and she would tease him too.

 _'I want to make love to you,'_ he would whisper with a gentle smile gracing his features, and every time she would melt under his hands, under his eyes. Always so loving and sure, always so passionate.

In the two months they were married, these mornings would repeat every day, and the nights were just the same. They would make love whenever they had a moment to themselves, relishing in this new way of living. Relishing in the knowledge that this would be them, together and until the rest of their days. **  
**

 _'I will be pregnant soon if we can't keep our hands off each other!'_ she had told him once with a satisfied grin. His hands dancing between her thighs.

 _'And what's wrong with that? I want a family with you, more than anything.'_

And now that she had everything he wanted, there were miles and miles of land and sea between them.

 **xxxx**

 _My Darling Wife,_

 _I can barely think straight as I write this, but first of all, I want to apologise for the delay. You were right when you said mail was complicated, especially with me in Africa, and for that reason your letter just got to me several weeks after you wrote it. I'm afraid the same will happen to my reply, but this is better than nothing, I suppose. I just hate to be without news from home for so long, and to know that you will be so worried until you get a letter back. So, don't you fret, my love, this is how things will be, at least for a few months on._

 _Now, where do I begin? I write these words with tears in my eyes. With an emotion so big I feel my heart is going to jump out of my chest. A child. Our child growing inside you while I am here, so far from you. But the thought of it brightens my days, and since I've read about the wonderful news I haven't been able to think of anything else. Oh Anna, I wish I was there. To experience everything with you. Now, more than ever, I wish this war to be over. You will have to tell me all about it. The changes in your body, the first time you feel it moving. Everything. I need your words to soothe my spirit. I need them as I need air to breathe._

 _You know, maybe when I get back from Africa I can visit you for a couple of days, if this bloody war doesn't end soon enough. They let us rest for a week sometimes, send us back, give us time to see the family. I will keep you informed if it eventually happens, but don't expect it for anytime soon. They said we should stay here for at least two months more, I will let you know._

 _Things here have been the same. One day we fly over this place, the other over that one. I don't wish to remember the names, I'd rather forget everything once it's over. Not that I've been seeing too much chaos, but still…once this whole thing is over the World will know._

 _There's a hustle and bustle of airplanes landing and taking off. Of men arriving for the first time, others leaving, just the way things are. This land is dusty, at least where we are based. We shower in cold water because the heat is unbearable, and the minute after we are dirty again. There's always wind, dry and harsh, it makes our lips bleed sometimes. At night, it's freezing cold, we have to cover ourselves with winter blankets._

 _I'm thinking about you again, and I can't help but smile despite all this distress. And when I say you, I mean you and our child now. Funny, you know, I think I miss it already. I know it sounds strange, but that's how I feel. Perhaps because I already feel so connected to it. I think I've seen it in my dreams as well…blonde, fair, sleeping in your arms. You so beautiful cradling it against your chest, and being the wonderful mother I know you will be, and I promise you that I'll do my best for both of you. Boy or girl, I don't know, but whatever it is, I'm going to be, I already am, the happiest man alive._

 _Now don't worry about me, I'll be fine. You and our child are the important ones. I know how much you love helping people, and I believe you should do it; we are nothing without a good compassionate heart, but please take care of yourself. Eat well, sleep enough and no heavy lifting. And if Mother wants to clean the tops of the kitchen cabinets, well, I think those can wait. I don't want you climbing on ladders or chairs. That's an order, Mrs Bates, and I fully mean it._

 _I love and miss you with all my heart. I shall dream of our child again tonight, and in there I will find peace._

 _With all my love,_

 _John Bates._

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 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	6. Chapter 6

_**A/N:** Thank you all so much for your support with this fic! :D _

_**Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-5. _

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Her hand was gentle on her growing stomach, the warm water caressing her skin. His letter had only arrived two days ago and it couldn't have been more settling to her heart. **  
**

She had worried. Every night her dreams betrayed her. Every night he was gone forever, wounded, dead, lost, a prisoner. Every night their child grew without a father, and every night she despaired in a long life without him. She could almost picture him now, as she had read his words, tanned faced, dried lips, slimmer than his usual self. His hair dusty and sweat dripping from his brow. Tired eyes and shaken soul.

Anna knew her John, better than she knew herself, and in his writing she could read every bit of angst and battle he was facing. Destroyed land, people dying, comrades being shot down. She read the papers every day, she listened to the news on the radio, she knew. She knew everything he wasn't telling her, she knew every secret he wanted to hide, but even worse than that, she knew there were a million more secrets, a million more miseries she would never know off, that he would always have to himself.

That pained her the most, somehow, to know she wouldn't be able to help him, what he wouldn't be able to share. If only this bloody war would come to an end…if only he would come home to her and their child.

She felt it then. Soft and gentle, almost too light to understand. But it happened again a second after and she smiled. At least, a part of him was still with her.

 **xxxx**

 _'My Love,_

 _The prospect of you coming home for a few days has given me so much hope, even though I know I shouldn't hope for anything more than your letters at this moment. But still, you can't deny me the excitement of the faintest possibility of having my husband back! I was so worried with the lack of news from you. The mail has been taking so long to send, or arrive, I'm not sure, and I know that you are suffering from the same ordeal. Although, no letters from you means something so much more terrible than the contrary._

 _Things have been the same here. Raining, damp, people trying to get on with their lives. Every day there's news about the war, every day there's a crying mother or wife receiving condolences from officials. I tremble every time I see men in uniform on the street, and selfishly I always pray for them to knock on others doors. It's horrible, I know, but I can't help it. I feel sorry for them but…I also feel happy for myself._

 _Anyway, onto better matters, I am sure you are tired of complaining and misery; Your Mother and I have started knitting some clothes for the baby. I wish you were here to see it, the pieces are ever so small. I've never knit such delicate things._

 _My dresses are getting tight around my waist, and I'm starting to show. Not much, but enough for me and your Mother to notice. She's ever so excited about it, but I am sure she tells you that in her letters._

 _I left the best news for last, or at least, I hope that you find it so. Today, I was in the tub having my bath, thinking about you, us, as I normally do, when I felt our child move inside me. It was so soft, and at first I didn't know it was it, but then it happened again and I was sure. It felt odd and incredible, wonderful. And somehow it made me feel closer to you._

 _Our child is already moving, John. Half of you is alive inside me and for that I couldn't be happier. These couple of months will go by so fast and my only wish is that you come back before the baby is born. I want you here when it happens. I want you here to see me pregnant, to live this with me. To feel it moving against your palm, to feel the warmth that comes from my growing stomach and to know that, without you, this wouldn't be possible. There's five months to go, and I find myself counting days, weeks…_

 _I felt it again. Almost like a feather like kiss. It reminds me of you. Of every touch, of your gentle breath against my skin. Maybe it was fate that made it happened this way, so I had some closure while you were away. That's what I want to believe._

 _I've been eating well, don't worry about that, and I've been sitting down most of the day, or just helping with the meals for the needy. When it rains we make it at Elsa's house. Do you know Elsa? I don't think you do. She lives right around the corner and her husband is away too, in France. She has two boys and a girl, the sweetest children I've ever met. Well, we set a table in her kitchen and open the door. There's always a big line of people, many children, most of them are still babies carried by their mothers. It breaks my heart._

 _That's how my days are spent. Knitting, reading, serving soup, sometimes we gather outside to talk about a bit of everything. Whatever I do, you are always on my thoughts. Always. And the constant presence of our child makes it a little more bearable. I love him, or her, so much already, as I know you do too._

 _I know it's not in your hands, but please, write as soon as you get my letter. All the waiting drives me insanely worried, no matter how many times you say there's no need for that. I love you and I worry, that's what wives do._

 _With all my love,_

 _Anna Bates._

 **xxxx**

She sighed folding the paper in the envelope. A sickly feeling lingering in her throat. Receiving a letter was a blessing but then…the waiting began again, and she waited and waited…and despaired.

Her hand came to her stomach, caressing another feather like movement, but this time she couldn't smile. Instead, she wept, because…what if this baby was a the only thing she would have left, not while she waited, but when he was gone?

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 **Thank you for reading :)**


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** Hello, hello! It's been a long time since I posted for this fic, but I started writing this with the propose of not having a schedule to post. It's letters during WW2 and those took a long time to be sent, so my idea was to take advanatge of that and post when I was able to get it done and not having to fret over it. I hope all this waiting hasn't made you lose interest. I really enjoy writing these letters, and I hope you love reading them. I will try to post more often though, that's a promise._ _Oh, so many ideas and stuff to write and so little time!_

 _Thank you for your patience and support!_

 _Hope you all have a great weekend :D_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-6. _

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' _My Darling John,_

 _So much time has passed since your last letter, and although I tried my best to have positive, rational thoughts, those are now long gone. They take me to dark places, places I never thought possible for me to visit._

 _I still want to believe everything's all right. I've been told how mail is so slow these days, and how hard it is for anyone to send anything from Africa, if you are still in Africa, I mean. I've tried to contact all those I know that could help me find where you are, if you are safe and sound, but no one can really help. They say they don't know, they can't give away information, and even though I beg them to, it won't do._

 _I miss you, John, more than ever, and I never been so scared in all my life. I find myself thinking about the memories we made together and I grow so terribly anxious whenever I dare thinking that's all we are going to have. And I cry. I'm sorry, but I can't help it._

 _Oh God, I hope when you read this you find me silly. I hope you read it with a smile on your face and curse the impossibility to send me a reply. I can almost see you, worrying, trying your best to get a letter to me in vain. Yes, that's what I will think from now on, otherwise, I have nothing else to hold on._

 _I mean...I do have your child, growing inside me, moving more and more every day. That's all that keeps me from despairing. Let me tell you about it._

 _This week, more or less, by my accounts, I'm seven months pregnant. My old dresses are all stored, nothing else fits me, as you can imagine. I'm huge, I feel heavy, my nights are difficult sometimes but whenever I feel our child move, happiness is reborns in me. Sometimes, I think he, or she, knows exactly what's going in my mind, for it's in those darker moments when I feel it move more, almost as a reminder that no matter what happens, I'll always have you with me, in us. It's due in February, by the way, a winter baby like yourself. But despite all this grace, it's not the same without you._

 _Christmas it's almost here, and I've been looking for something to get you, something for you to have when you get back to us. I won't say what I've been eyeing but I think you are going to love it! Now, that would be a perfect Christmas gift, if I got a letter from you. I've heard they allow more mail during December because of the holiday so maybe we'll have our chance. I do hope so. A Christmas miracle or something of that sort. Wouldn't that be splendid?!_

 _Anyway, I hope this letter finds you well, somewhere safe and preferably warm, away from those cold nights of Africa or this terrible Winter we are having in Europe._

 _I love you, John and I miss you. You are always in my thoughts, even when I sleep, every second, always, always..._

 _With all my love,_

 _Anna Bates._

 **xxx**

Anna froze on her chair as the sound of a loud knock on the front door came to her ears; her immediate thought was _mail_. She stood from where she was sitting at the desk after telling John's mother she would answer, and quickly, she made her way through the hall.

'Who's this?' She asked, her heart racing on her chest.

'Is this where Air Commodore Bates' family lives?' A deep voice said from the outside and that's when her heart stopped racing, only to fall to her feet. She opened the door and the man immediately took his official cap off, placing it over his chest.

'Mrs Bates?' he asked.

'Yes, his wife.' Anna replied softly, as the man took a moment to take in her state. She noticed his face crumpling, and when he looked at her she knew.

'I'm sorry, Mrs Bates. Commodore is missing...for over two months now…'

The last thing she remembered was the warm, bitter feeling of tears on her skin, trembling knees and a speechless voice. The last thing she felt was his lips against her ear telling her how much he loved her, how much he was going to miss her. And when she woke up, not even the child that grew inside her was able to put a smile on her face. For all that love now seemed lost, for all the life she had in her seemed to have gone missing too.

* * *

 _ **TBC**_

 _ **Thank you for reading :)**_


	8. Chapter 8

_**A/N:** I want to credit **brendanbyfanny** on Tumblr for all the French translations. I should have been a better student during my French classes oops xD _

_Hope you all enjoy this chapter. There's hope!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-7. _

* * *

_He felt cold and sore, laid on muddy, hard, stone. Ashes, smoke, dust flying around him. There were noises but he didn't understand what was going on. There was a breeze that reminded him of home._

 _His breathing was painful, his body swollen, and he knew he was near to death. That was, until he felt a touch, a gentle caress along his cheek and when he opened his eyes, she was there, looking back at him, smiling._

' _Anna.'_

'Shh...Vous êtes en sécurité maintenant.' A woman spoke, and Anna vanished away.

'What?' he asked confused, finding he couldn't move without pain and realising he was in a foreign place.'Where, am I?'

'Safe, safe...you are safe,' the woman answered back; dark hair and black eyes, sunken cheeks, bony hands. Her English was bad, but it was hard for him to tell what accent she had.

'Where?' he insisted, suddenly feeling panicking. It was so hard to breathe, so hard to move...and he just wanted to be home, to see something familiar. He was lost...so, so cold.

'Pierre? Aide le s'il te plaît.'

The woman gave place to a man, as skinny, as fragile, as dark haired as she was, and in that moment John realised he was lying on a bed. A very uncomfortable one. In the distance, the sound of chickens and children. Where in the hell was he?

'You're at our farm,' the middle aged man said, as the woman gathered bloody rags to wash. John's blood. 'In France.'

'France?' Even speaking was painful.

'Your plane fell, plane...BOOM!' The man gestured trying his best to explain what had happened. 'On the ground. Dieu merci...you lived.'

'Rest now...rest,' the woman whispered, taking a fresh cloth and cleaning his brow. There was a gentle smile on her lips, her touch was caring and careful. 'Shhh...Pierre, quel est son nom?

'My name is, John…' he replied, understanding what she had asked the man. 'John Bates. I need…' He tried to sit up, but the woman didn't allow him to, insisting he lay down and be still. 'Listen! I need to write a letter. My wife, I need to write to my wife.'

'Tomorrow…' Pierre spoke, pulling John back under the sheets. 'You're not good now. Tomorrow.'

'You don't understand.' John pleaded, his strength failing him already.

'Just rest, John Bates. Rest.'

And with that he closed his eyes, and Anna returned to him, in dreams.

 **xxx**

 _My Darling John,_

 _Tonight is Christmas Eve, and for the first time in my life I don't feel like celebrating. I know you will hate me saying it but, without you here nothing is the same. We do try, I promise, but...this would be the first time we would celebrate Christmas as husband and wife._

 _Remember our plans for Christmas? We would lay together at night, me in your arms, while you ran your hands through my hair and told me all about it. The full table on Christmas Eve. The children laughing and dreaming about their presents the next morning. Roasted turkey that you would carve for us, and mash. Your mother telling the little ones stories, and embarrassing you with every single one of them. I still remember you pointing out their places at the table. Me at your right, Mother at your left, then two or three girls, all blonde and blue eyed, and one or two boys, that you would insisted to have my features as well, but that I always dreamed would look exactly like you._

 _I still dream of all that, and I believe it as fiercely as before. I know, I feel it, that you will come back to me. That one day you will arrive home when we least expect and we will make all those dreams come true, and in the meantime, I will keep writing, no matter what they tell me. I won't give up on you. I can't do it._

 _Now, in a way, our dreams are coming together. I'm huge, nothing fits, my nights are awful, my feet swollen and it's hard for me to walk around for too long, although I do spent most of my time sitting down and sewing, or helping Mrs. Bates with the food. But, at the end of the day, I feel so happy for this child that I'm carrying. It's worth all soreness and insomnia in the world. He, or she, is moving so much, reminding me not to give up on hope. Not to break down and despair. And the love...you have no idea how much I love our baby. How much I long to hold him in my arms and see his face, to feel his smell, to recognise you in him. I feel like I've known him forever, as if he was always part of our lives._

 _Him. Sometimes I do wish he's a boy. A boy exactly like you, as I mentioned before. A boy with dark hair and an ocean of tenderness in his eyes. A boy, so I can name him after his wonderful father. Sometimes I wish it to be a girl. A little girl to dress up, to teach how to sew, and mostly because I know you always wanted daughters. They do say girls are their father's favourites._

 _Please, John, be safe, be well. We are waiting for you. My Christmas wish? For you to be home in time to see your child born. That's all I want. I need you with me._

 _I won't stop writing. When they find you, you will have all my letters to read in your way home._

 _With all my love,_

 _Anna Bates._

* * *

 **Thank you for reading :)**


	9. Chapter 9

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Hope you enjoy this new chapter :) Sorry for the delay but yet again, real life gets in the way, together with other fics and ideas for future ones ;)_

 _Have a good Friday and an even better weekend!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-8._

* * *

Another moonless, cold night in January. London was its usual chaotic self. Life hadn't changed much. Sitting, facing the window, Anna looked into the darkness, her eyes longingly fixed on the street corner. The corner he would round when he came back home, _if_ he ever came back home one day.

'What's the matter, my dear? Writing again?' Mrs Bates asked, watching as the expectant young mother rested a notepad on her lap, the pen loose between her pale fingertips.

'Yes…' Anna sighed, her free hand rubbing the sensation of a kick in her ever growing stomach. 'I have to write...to him. I can't not do it.'

'I understand,' the older woman approached her, placing a supportive caress on her shoulder. 'But, maybe-'

'No. I refuse to give up.'

'I wasn't going to say that. God knows I've not lost hope myself, he's my son. My only son,' Mrs Bates replied. 'But I think you should try to keep your thoughts somewhere else? I see you looking out of that window, day after day, at night I hear you tossing and turning in bed. It's not good for you, dear.'

'What else should I think about?' Anna faced her mother in law then, her eyes damp with unshed tears. 'My husband's missing, presumed dead. His child is due in less than one month.'

'Your child, now that's something you should focus on,' Mrs Bates smiled, trying to cheer the young woman.

'And I do…' Anna looked down at her stomach. Another kick, this time stronger than before. 'More than anything, and that's why I think of John. Because I fear that our child will grow without ever having met his father. Because I fear that...that all his memories will be tales, nothing more. I fear that _my memories_ will be always the same, reliving them again and again, and thinking how beautiful our life would have been if he was here.' Her voice caught in her throat.

'You should think of this baby as new memories for you. Of a new life...a different one, but not necessarily worse,' the older woman said, but deep inside she knew she was fooling herself too. In vain, she feigned being strong, although at night she could hear Anna only because she was awake as well. Awake and crying over her dearest son.

'I don't want that. I refuse to think of my child as a replacement. I want both...I need both. A life without John...No.' Anna shook her head, cleaning away the tears that had slid down her cheeks. 'I refuse to think about that.'

Mrs Bates nodded, understanding her every word. 'I'll leave you to your writing then. I hope you can sleep better tonight.' She smiled at her daughter in law before placing a kiss atop her head. With that, Anna was left alone.

 **xxx**

 _My John,_

 _The little I sleep is to dream of you. Of us. I see you clearly, as if I was awake. You and our child. You hold her to your chest, rock her to sleep, sing. It's beautiful and it's overwhelming, and when I wake up I wonder if it has indeed happened. I swear I'm surrounded by your smell, I sense the warmth of your presence, the sound of your laughter, the gentleness of your smile. It's a her I see lately, a little girl that makes you so proud, so loving, so passionate about life...I open my eyes and see darkness then; the way my life is without you._

 _Perhaps I'm selfish. Perhaps I'm being irrational, I think many women would think that of me for being in this state of grace and not being happy. Overjoyed. How could I? How could I relish in a life of a mother without her husband, of a baby without its father? Because, you're not just my husband. You're my best friend, my soul mate, everything I've always dreamed of. You're half of me, of us. And how can we live only in halves? How unfair it is to not live wholly._

 _I do not give up hope though, ever. For myself, for you and for our child. We are waiting for you, John. We always will be. I know you are alive. I just know it. I feel it in my heart. I feel a sliver of life in me...I feel you in my dreams, as hopeful as I am, to come back home. It doesn't matter how long it takes, we will wait. And we love you so much._

 _With all my love,_

 _Anna Bates._

* * *

 ** _Thank you all for reading :)_**


	10. Chapter 10

_**A/N:** Hello my dear readers! I hope you are having a good Monday :) Here's another update, and this fic is turning into something bigger than I initially thought, but I'm enjoying it very much. I hope you are too. I know I've been late with the updates (too late) but I really can't work faster than I am atm. There are other stories to write and to plan for and when I finally think about the ones I have to update I realise a month or so has passed by. Time is moving so fast, it's almost ridiculous xD But don't you fret, I may take some time but I'll keep updating all my fics and working on new ones. Now, that's a promise :) Thank you all for your support!_

 _Hope you enjoy this chapter. Wish you all a grand week!_

 _ **Disclaimer** : Same as chapter 1-9. _

* * *

'Come on, let me help you.' Pierre helped John to a standing position on his hard mattress, and for the first time in days, maybe even weeks - he had lost track of time - he was able to see more than just the ceiling and the faces of those who had saved his life.

The house was a barn, really. Old and falling apart. A God forgotten place in the middle of nowhere. The bed he was laying on was no more than a gathering of hay, layered with sheets and ragged cloths. At the bottom of the _room_ there was a rusty stove with a boiling kettle of water dancing on top of it.

'How are you feeling?' The frenchman spoke, his accent almost too heavy to understand.

'Alive,' he replied shortly, watching as the woman reached for the boiling kettle, taking it away from the fire. 'What...what day is it?' His head was ached, his ribs felt like thin shards of glass cutting inside him.

'Nadine?' Pierre looked over at his wife questioningly.

'January...twenty seven.'

'What? Oh no,' John cried, holding his stomach for a bit of relief, but nothing seemed to do. 'It can't be so late. How long...how long have I been here?'

'Weeks...' Pierre answered. Outside, the sound of laughter could be heard now. Children were playing, there was a dog too.

'Oh God! I need...I need to write to my wife. Please. She's…' Even words were painful, but not as painful as the possibility of… 'She's with child.'

'You can write a letter, but…' Pierre looked over at his wife again, both sharing a knowing glance. 'I don't know if I can post. It's dangerous, and we are far, far away. Everything went -,' the man gestured with his hands. 'Explosions, fire. There's nothing left.'

'Antoine! Amelie!' Nadine called and two children came running inside. A boy and a girl no more than six. They were scolded, perhaps for making such fuss outside, John didn't really pay much attention to it. His mind was elsewhere. On his wife, on his child, on his mother.

'Please…,' he implored. 'I want her to know I'm alive.'

Pierre nodded with an unsure expression on his face. 'I can try, next week only. But I can try.'

 **xxx**

 _My Sweet Anna,_

 _I hope this letter reaches you as soon as possible as I know how worried you all must be. I'm well, I'm alive. I'm in France. I was saved by a couple, Pierre and Nadine, and they've been taking care of me since then. I won't go into details of what happened to me or the others, for I cannot speak of what I don't recall. It was a time of panic and raw emotions, memories are still so...confusing, so all over the place. I was told I slept for a few weeks, moments of consciousness were rare and short, that's all I know. But I'm doing well now, don't worry. There's only a few bruises left, I'm in good and caring hands. After all, only the good die young. Isn't that what Mother says?_

 _It's so difficult to write to you from where we are though, and poor Pierre will have to bike to the next village and find someone who will post this later for him. It's dangerous to be out there, but he's most kind, especially after I told him about your condition._

 _My dear, I do hope these words find you well and hopeful. I know you will be once you read this. I can see you, I swear, your smile lighting up and tears gathering in your eyes. You've cried for so much less, remember? I do. I remember every time you cried out of sheer happiness, and I did too. Those moments are my source of strength in this dark place, although I am among friends, you are the one who keeps my soul and body warm, sure. I think back on the night I asked you to marry me, on the morning I told you I had settled a date. I think back on the little moments too, our teas, our conversations, our walks in the park, our readings together, the both of us silent, each with a book, but so close at the same time, so in tune. And then, those nights, of you and I knowing each other as husband and wife, and one. Those nights that gave fruit, a fruit that's growing inside you, to be everything we always dreamed of together._

 _I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry for not being there. I'm sorry for missing all the moments of you becoming a mother. Oh Anna, I can't help but cry thinking of all that I'm missing, of all that I should be witnessing and sharing with you. As days go by, I know I won't be there to see our child come to this world, but I tell you this, my love, I promise you, I will be there for everything else. Soon. Before you know it, I'll be there, rounding that street corner I told you to watch over. I'll be there, my sweet, walking to you and our child and my mother. I promise you that._

 _Until then, know that you are a constant in my thoughts, my heart, in everything that I do, in every second that I live. You and our family. Wait for me._

 _With all my love,_

 _John Bates._

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	11. Chapter 11

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone :D How's summer going? Over here it's been super busy, but good :) Hope you're all having a good week, and that you enjoy this new chapter. _

_**Stardust related:** I know I'm soooooo late to post the Epilogue but don't you despair. It's not forgotten, just delayed (lots delayed). _

_Thank you all for your patience and support xXx_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-10._

* * *

 _My darling John,_

 _I can't find the right words, and I doubt I ever will, to describe the love and joy that this letter carries all the way to you._

 _Our child was born, John, last night, and I can't begin to tell you how much light the little one has brought to my life. Our lives._

 _Oh my love, you have to come home soon, to meet our baby, our son. We have a son, John, a little boy. He has made me fall in love with you all over again, and the love I feel for him...is something I can't even put into words. But you'll know, when you come back to us and look at him and see half of you in his eyes, his chin, and his cheeks. He's a big boy, little dark hair, long fingers and toes, a frown on his brow ever since the minute he was born. It reminds me of you, and you know why. Your mother says he looks exactly like you when you're born and I believe her every word._

 _He's perfect, John. Perfect. He hasn't cried much, eats so well, loves to be in my arms, to be rocked and sung to. He's a bit of a fussy sleeper though, but that I can manage that._

 _If only you were here to witness this miracle. I prayed so much for you to come home in time and I can't help but feel a bit disappointed that you're not here. But I know that you can't, I know there's something stronger keeping you away from us, and I know as soon as you're able to join our family you will do so. And we will wait. We're waiting, my love._

 _I'm going to name him Samuel, a name I know you carry in your heart, and I do hope he'll be as a great man as your father was. And of course, he'll have your name too. Samuel John, after two wonderful men._

 _Now, he sleeps as I write. His soft breathing makes me feel so much closer to you. I understand now, what everyone kept telling me. A child is no replacement but it helps. Helps to overcome, helps to try to find happiness among darkness again. Knowing that without you, our baby wouldn't be here, and that makes my heart settle in my chest. And knowing that he's here with me, makes me believe in your return even more. A miracle with another miracle, isn't that what your mother says? Hope. Above all else, a child is hope._

 _We're waiting, my love. Mother, Samuel and I._

 _We're waiting for your love and care, for your stories and your teachings, for us to grow old as our son grows bigger. For our family to grow together._

 _With all our love,_

 _Anna and Samuel Bates._

 **xxx**

'What's the matter, darling?' She whispered to her son as the baby began to fuss on small the basket she used to carry him around; a second without him was something unthinkable to her, not when the other half of her was away, so far, so...unknown.

The night outside brought a freezing mist, but the cold wouldn't stop her from performing her routine;day and night, looking out of the living room window, a shawl around her shoulders, the small lamp on, the fire still going strong. _That_ street corner. If only she focused hard enough, maybe it would come true.

'You can't be hungry already, can you?'

She picked the little babe up and rocked him gently against her chest, telling him how much he meant to her. In that very moment, the newborn boy looked up to his mother, his eyes fixed, his expression a serious one.

'You do look like your daddy with all those frowns.' She giggled softly, running a gentle hand along his head. 'We'll have him home soon, my Samuel. I promise you.'

And with her soothing words, the boy closed his eyes into a sigh. He wouldn't cry again so soon. And neither would his father round that street corner...not just yet.

* * *

 _ **Thank you for reading :)**_


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! I'm sorry for taking so long but I really wasn't able to update this fic sooner. As some of you may know, real life events got in the way of things. Same with my other fics. But September has come and I've been trying to be productive with my writing. There's a new fic on the making, and the old ones being written (and so many ideas for future stories. Oh so many!) Thank you all for your patience and for your support :D _

_Hope you enjoy this chapter. There's good news for John!_

 _ **Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-11. _

* * *

This watery soup somehow reminded him of his mother's, but it couldn't be more different even if he tried to pretend it was. The two older children played outside and on Nadine's breast a little babe nursed eagerly, the only one of them who was properly fed.

John stared at the baby, his spoon hanging in his hand. His mind took him far away, to a place where his wife, and possibly his child, were waiting for them. 'What's his name?'

'Jean,' Nadine replied smiling down at her child.

'Beautiful name.'

'Do you think your child was born already?' It was Pierre who asked, joining them at the old wooden table.

'Maybe,' John sighed, resting the spoon in his empty bowl.

'Don't you worry. He'll be there when you go back home,' Nadine reassured.

'I just wish I was there already. I hate not being there.'

The couple eyed each other, feeling sorry for the man. 'I'll have to go to the village, to try to find some vegetables and bread.'

'I'm sorry, with me here it's just so much more difficult for-'

'Non! Don't say that.' Pierre rested one hand on his shoulder, before continuing. 'Now listen, I may have a way to...take you out of here.'

John sat up straight at once. 'What?!' Paying all his attention on what Pierre told him.

'Maybe. Don't know for sure. But maybe.'

'What do I need to do?' John asked, his heart was racing terribly on his chest.

'For now, nothing. I'll tell you more when I come back.'

'Thank you, Pierre,' John smiled, very moved. Was this it? Was this the beginning of his journey home?

'You're welcome, my friend. You're welcome.'

 **xxx**

 _My Lovely One,_

 _You'll hate me saying it, but I despair writing this. I despair with every passing day. I despair with not knowing what's happening, what has happened. Is our child born? Are you well? Is Mother doing better from her back pain?_

 _I miss the little things more than anything. Your laughter. The way you sweeten my tea, the way you tuck your hair behind your ear when the book you're reading is far much interesting than what you had thought. I miss walking barefoot on the wooden floor, the pressure of a newly sharp razor against the skin of my face. I miss Mother's soup. I miss her scoldings, the way she rolls her eyes at me whenever I say something she doesn't agree with._

 _I miss going out for tea with you, and the way you devour those chocolate muffins I always find too sweet. How can you like them is beyond me, but watching you eating is much enjoyable. Probably one of the best things in the world to watch. I wonder if you ate much of those muffins, or if you still do, if our child has made you desire such intense sweetness._

 _Our child. I'm sure you're already holding him, or her, in your arms, and I hate thinking that I'm not there to witness such tender moments. You nursing, rocking the baby to sleep, telling him all about us, how we met, how much he looks like me. You know, Pierre and Nadine have a little baby too and whenever she cries, during the night, I think I'm back home, with you. I never am, and my heart breaks not knowing when I'll be. I hope soon. Soon._

 _Tell Mother I'm well. I'm being taken care of. Pierre and Nadine are friendly people. Take care, my love. Tell our child I love him, or her, so very much, as I love you._

 _With all my love,_

 _John Bates._

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


	13. Chapter 13

_**A/N:** Good evening everyone! Hope you're all doing well :D This fic is almost coming to an end and I hope you enjoy these last chapters :) Thank you for your support! _

_**Disclaimer:** Same as chapter 1-12. _

* * *

'Oh come on, now. He'll be all right,' Mrs Bates insisted, as Anna walked back and forth dressed in one of her old outfits. 'And look, you're wearing your old dresses already!'

The young woman smiled. 'It's a bit tight but I can still breathe.' She took a deep breath to prove it. 'But...I'm not sure...what if he needs me and-'

'Anna, you're just two houses down the road. It'll do you good to talk with someone other than me and the letters you write.' Mrs Bates shot her a worried look.

'I know. You're right.'

'If he needs you I'll call. I promise.'

'Thank you, Mrs Bates,' Anna smiled, walking toward the small basket where her son slept. 'I'll be back before his next feeding,' she said, before leaning down to kiss her sleeping babe on his soft, chubby cheek. 'Mummy won't be long. Be nice for granny.'

She left then, carrying a bag of clothes to give away for charity.

'You are what is keeping us from breaking, my son…' The old woman spoke softly, her grandson smiling in his sleep,'until your dear father returns home.'

 **x**

'I baked a cake and all for our tea party. Chocolate. Your favourite, Anna!'

'Thank you, Beck.'

The tea party Beck organised twice a year for charity, was always a success. Old friends came with bags of used clothing to sort and give away for those in need.

'You should have brought little Sam with you,' Agatha told Anna with a dreamy smile on her face. 'He's such a sweet baby. An angel.'

'He was sleeping so well, I didn't have the heart,' Anna replied. 'But you know you can always drop by to see him.'

'So, where's our charity?!' Beck clapped her hands together, encouraging everyone to start showing the items they had brought.

'Ugh, I've brought all this!' Clara sighed, dragging two big bags with much difficulty. 'My husband had so much stuff he didn't use anymore. The hardest part was to convincing him to give it away.'

'Same with mine,' Agatha complained. 'I think men are way more attached to clothes than we are.'

'Men are way more on everything than us.' Beck teased.

They all laughed, while Anna remained silent from her place at the table. Beck noticed this and immediately placed a good sized slice of cake and a cup of tea before her.

'Thank you, Beck,' Anna replied with a smile, before showing the others the items she had brought. 'I've brought a few dresses from when I was pregnant too...and these two I haven't worn for years.'

'So pretty, Anna! Oh, I love this one!'

'Take your hands off, Christina!' Beck warned. 'These are all for charity.'

'Spoilsport!'

'And what about this one, Anna?' Clara asked, taking an over-sized jumper from Anna's bag. 'Was it from John?'

'Oh my! It's beautiful. My husband would love this one.'

'I already told you, Christina, these are all and only for charity!'

'I'm sorry but…' Amid all the chatter, Anna stood up from the chair and quickly grabbed the jumper away from Clara's hands. 'This one shouldn't be here. Sorry.'

'It's all right, Anna.' Beck assured, motioning for her to sit back. 'Here, enjoy your tea and cake.'

'Thank you, Beck. I'm sorry.'

'Don't worry, Anna.' Clara smiled.

 **xxx**

' _My dear husband,_

 _Today was different. I woke up early, Samuel was still asleep, and I felt like you had just left the house for work. For a moment, I believed it. I could feel the warmth of your lips on my forehead, your smell in the room. It all seemed so normal, but also dream like. Your son and I would then wait for you to return home, and when you did, life would be complete once again. A family like we always imagined._

 _But then, I touched your pillow and it was cold, and your scent seemed to become fainter until it was gone. That broke my heart, and it made me feel extremely sick. Was it a sign? Is it a sign? I don't know anymore. I don't know what to think. But I know that every time Samuel opens his eyes and I tell him about you, I fear that's all he'll ever have. Stories, tales. To only know his father by word. By the few letters we shared. Funny though, when I speak of you he listens carefully as if wanting to take all in, and in that I found my shelter, my hope. That somehow he's so connected to you - a bond only a father and a son could possibly share - that he senses you'll be back. It's silly, I know, but I feel great peace in such a theory._

 _And then, Beck, from our street, invited me to her charity tea party, the one I used to attend and that you always tried to give something away for the needy. Well, you did for this one too. The jumper your aunt knitted for you more than twenty years ago and that you couldn't get it past your neck. Before you left, you threw it out and I placed it in the charity bag only to find it today at Beck's house. Time stopped then, when I saw it, images of you trying it on for me began to play before my eyes. I remember myself telling you, you were probably just bigger now, and the look you gave me. 'You're calling me fat? I'm just well built.' But you don't "build" throughout your thirties and forties, do you? Well, I took it back home with me. I couldn't give it away. There's too many memories, too many wonderful moments. We made love after you took it off, only to prove me how well built you were._

 _Oh, John...there's not one day, one minute, that goes by that I don't think about you. This house is empty without you. We all are. If we didn't have Samuel, I don't think your mother and I would make it. He's part of the light you took away when you left, the little light that makes us see through darkness and believe, even though it's so difficult to do so. But I do, with all my strength, my heart, and I will, until the day you come back to us._

 _With all my love,_

 _Anna Bates.'_

* * *

 ** _Thank you for reading :)_**


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